


Dine Like Kings, Flirt Like Fools

by themoonandmargot



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Partners in Crime au, Tropetastic Tuesday, crime dads in action, if you know what i mean, or perhaps only in need of some action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10623345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonandmargot/pseuds/themoonandmargot
Summary: "They’ve had their fair share of truly stupid stunts, from the high-risk to the near-fatal. But this reaches a new level of stupid."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I abandoned my chem homework and started working on this once I saw the prompt for this week's Tropetastic Tuesday, and now, well... it's five in the morning, holy crap. Happy reading~

It’s exactly how Rhett described it.   
  
The restaurant is dark, save for the yellowed lamps and tea lights scattered around the space. It’s only five in the afternoon, so the staff could easily draw back their maroon curtains, but the convenience of sunlight clearly doesn’t simulate the same intimacy. Behind the granite counter is a lady with perfectly-white teeth. She guides Rhett and Link to a table with an equally-pristine tablecloth, and it is there that the two gentlemen plan to spend the rest of the night in luxury.   
  
Link doesn’t need to look at the other guests to know exactly who they are, what they’re like. He sees it—hears it, too, in every corner of the room—the rich dad, the beautiful mom, the seventeen children who travel to the Bahamas every summer with their khaki shorts and well-ironed button-ups. They laugh and chew and drink until Link convinces himself that he really  _ does _ deserve this suit and tie; he’s definitely worked for it. Killed for it, one might even say.   
  
Yet it doesn’t stop him from thinking Rhett’s plan is completely stupid. They’ve had their fair share of truly stupid stunts, from the high-risk to the near-fatal. But this reaches a new level of stupid.   
  
“See anything you like, babe?” Rhett asks. He flips through the laminated pages of glossy photos and dollar signs.   
  
Link ignores his question and leans forward, murmuring a new one. “Are you sure this will work?”   
  
Rhett sets down the menu and snickers.  _ Ye of little faith. _ “It  _ will _ , but you have to play along, man. Everyone enjoys a good love story. We just gotta tell the story right. No one cares about a proposal if it looks like it’s between two business partners.” Rhett’s eyes flicker past Link, then look back down at the menu as a waiter passes him. “So, how about some calamari, babe?”   
  
Link snorts, opening his menu with a shake of his head. “Sounds great,  _ babe _ .”   
  
In no less than thirty minutes, food fills the surface of their small, square table. Link almost feels obliged to express his embarrassment to the poor waitress, hefting tray after tray of loaded dishes. The feeling quickly vanishes when a half chicken, golden-brown and bathed in butter, is set before him. He doesn’t wait for their server to leave before slicing into it. Meanwhile, he hears Rhett divulge to the waitress how excited he’s been for their “date”.   
  
Rhett, Link finds, is infinitely hungrier than he. His steak au poivre, as thick as it is, disappears in a graceful dance of fork and knife. The pasta with lamb sausage along with the veal bacon follow soon after.   
  
The mood shifts upon gulping down their third glass of wine. The both of them feel a bit warmer in their suits, which, for some reason, start to look better on them. Rhett can’t stop giggling after each “babe” he directs at Link, and his giggling makes Link giggle, so much so that they start to earn the attention of the other guests. At one point, Link has head thrown back in loud, high-pitched laughter, with his hand rested upon his full stomach, and Rhett tries to kick him from under the table. It winds up more like a game of footsie.   
  
“Hey,” Rhett hisses, cheeks puffed out in a grin. “You’re gettin’ too loud.”   
  
“So?” Link challenges. He scrunches his nose and rests his forearms on the table. “I’m doin’ what you wanted me to do. I’m playin’ the part, jus’ like you said.”  
  
“You’re drunk. I didn’t plan for either of us to get drunk. Plus, rich people don’t get wasted. Not in public, at least.”   
  
“And not on purpose.”   
  
They look at each other for a second, gauging each other’s reactions, then erupt into silly, exhausting laughter. It’s strange, being this happy for the first time in years. They’ve felt the thrill of a police chase and the high of a clean escape. But something about dinner in a fancy restaurant rewinds time decades into the past, where two young boys sit and laugh at a kitchen counter after school. They remember car rides across town, and jokes told under gym bleachers, and hot summers spent in cool rivers. They remember all of it, and Link mumbles something about Rhett being an idiot. Rhett says he’s a bigger idiot. It’s time.   
  
Rhett, tall and handsome, steps out of his seat to kneel before Link. The entire night has been leading up to this moment. Link knows this. Yet the way Rhett looks up at him, black box in hand, still catches him by surprise. His heart nearly leaps out his throat when he whispers, “Sh– um, should I stand up?”   
  
Rhett pauses. “Sure. Gets more attention that way.”   
  
Link scrambles to his feet, and at this, a woman sitting near their table gasps.  _ Perfect. _   
  
“Gregg,” Rhett starts, careful to use Link’s fake name, “I’ve known you for my entire life. I’ve loved you for all of it, too. You’ve been my partner-in-crime for as I long as I can remember, and I never want that to change. So, will you marry me?”   
  
More than half of the room watches Link press a hand to his mouth and tearfully nod a “yes”. The restaurant applauds, and Link is buzzing, shaking, while Rhett slips a five-dollar band onto his finger. Rhett’s eyes are green and wild;  _ ready for the encore? _ Link prepares himself for a large embrace, all for show, as Rhett jumps to his feet. He looms closer, closer, far more closer than usual, then– oh.  _ Oh. _   
  
Rhett presses his lips against Link’s. The kiss tastes of pinot noir. Link nearly faints.   
  
Rhett is laughing when he steps back. Link assumes that he’s acting. Link also starts to laugh, though he questions if he, too, is acting. He can definitely vouch for the legitimacy of his tears. “Good job, man,” Rhett whispers, clapping a hand on Link’s back. Ah, there’s the hug Link was expecting. A moment passes before Link musters the brainpower to will his arms around Rhett. People are still watching, he remembers. Free dinner is on the line.   
  
Their waitress comes by to flash her Colgate smile at them. She squeals about how cute they are (probably with hopes of a big tip), and Rhett milks the situation, telling her about the dates they’ve never had and the places they’ve never explored. Link only smiles and nods.   
  
It takes five minutes of Link twiddling the new band on his finger before the conversation dwindles. Rhett leans toward the waitress and, voice low, asks, “May we have the bill?”   
  
“Oh, of course!” she says. “And I’ll throw in a free slice of cake to-go!”   
  
Rhett freezes. Link’s hand squeezes Rhett’s side a bit more tightly. “Cake,” Rhett echoes, softly.   
  
“Yeah, just for you guys! I’ll be back with your check, too.” The men watch her, ponytail swinging, as she disappears behind the kitchen entrance. Rhett and Link unhinge their grasp on each other and plop into their seats. Their night up to this point takes a moment to comprehend.  _ Did they get engaged just to end up paying for a three-hundred-dollar meal? _   
  
Link breaks the silence. “You have a Plan B, right?” he asks.   
  
Rhett turns to Link, stares at him, then smirks. Link recognizes the expression immediately. His answer needs no saying.  _ Of course I do. _   
  
Their server bounces up to their table with a skinny, leather book in hand. “The cake will be out in a second, but you can pay the bill now if you’re ready,” she says.   
  
Rhett accepts the check coolly, laying it flat on the table. He reaches for his pocket, then his other pocket. He checks his coat as well, though he knows it’s just as empty. Both the waitress and Link watch him, suspenseful, as he looks up and offers a bashful smile. “About that…”   


* * *

The ride home is quiet. Link’s dress shirt, once damp with sweat, cools in the night air. He still hears the waitress’s voice, wavering and worrying, as she allows Rhett to pay the bill another day. Amazing how far a fake name and number get you. He glances at Rhett, steering wordlessly.  _ You’re never going back there, are you? _ It’s another dumb question, one that Link prevents himself from asking despite the urge to fill the silence. Rather, he decides to tease his friend.  
  
“Your Plan B should’ve been your Plan A all along,” he says.   
  
Rhett hesitates. “Should it have? Plan A was more fun.” He exhales through his nose, and though Link would prefer otherwise, he recognizes what this means.  _ I sort of liked Plan A. _   
  
Street lights flash by.  _ I sort of liked Plan A, too. _   
  
“You’re an idiot,” Link says.   
  
“You’re a bigger idiot,” Rhett replies.   
  
And they smile to themselves, knowing that they’ll remember tonight for something other than dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Rhink/RandL fic I've posted in a while ahhhHh ? My writing has probably improved since I posted those two other fics. Still writing about crime dads, though.
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed reading my contribution to Week 6 of Tropetastic Tuesday! Please leave a comment, and if you so desire, say hi to me on my tumblr @unofficialrhettandlink! Thanks <3


End file.
